Sunday, August 02, 2015

Threading the Needle

The words come or they don’t.
The moods come or they won’t.
And I have never been much of a stickler for sticking points.

I may be a maverick or perhaps I’m a rogue.
I could be a hopeless romantic or maybe just a hapless fool.
I cannot remember the last time I fumbled around for the light switch, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that long ago.

My new bifocals help me to see things more clearly.
My new bifocals help me to discern the dirt from the debris and the collateral damage from the religious extremists.
I’m never going to strap a bomb to my chest no matter how many virgins I’m promised in Heaven.

The sun rises and it sets.
The moon shines and it frets.
And I have never been crazy about going crazy unless it involves kicking off my shoes and running into the sea.

If you feel like threading the needle I’ll be just around the corner catching a smoke or eating some ice-cream.
If you decide enough is enough and it’s time to throw in the towel please ring me before you attempt to call God collect.
I am so tired of people leaving the building prematurely. Didn’t you get the memo that we are here for a reason even when or especially when we have no clue what that reason might just be?

Charles Cicirella

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